As I Lay There
by Dogs1954
Summary: As I Lay There is my first fanfiction that follows a District 7 Tribute's Point Of View, and set in the time frame of the 74th Games - The Games instead of Katniss' one. A complete OC main character, with OC other tributes and an OC Games, and my take on District 7.
1. Chapter 1

**As I Lay There**

**CHAPTER 1**

I lay there, staring at our mossy cobblestone floor, with the trees a fair way in the distance swaying gently in the crisp morning air, outside my window. The tranquillity, serenity, of the picture completely defied the nature of the day, my most hated – The Day of the Reaping.

Every year they had one in each district, including my own, district 7. A lot of the time the two names called out belonged to owners that never came back due to the Hunger Games. Too often, the results of district 7 tributes hadn't fared well, since nine years before my birth. To have your name called out on these fateful days were like a death sentence.

The last champion had been Johanna Mason – a sixteen year old who had defied odds and won, twenty-five years ago. There had been more promising tributes since, and yet not one had returned. This was the reason I dreaded the Reaping.

My family, which only consisted of my mother and father, were lucky, because we had fewer mouths to feed and able-bodied people with the ability to get money, and they didn't need me to provide for the family, but I couldn't bear to give them sorrow, or leave E-... my friends, forever. I was 16 – I had a good chance of being chosen.

Suddenly, my mother burst in the room.

"Get up quickly, Owen, we can't be late for the Reaping!"

I responded with a gradual rise out of bed, proving my displeasure of the day.

"Oh, Come on Owen! You need to hurry up!"

I hurriedly got dressed in my best clothes, which were warm, in order to keep me from the cold that district 7 so often had to endure. It was going to be a sad day – I could tell that.

**Hey Everyone! Thanks for reading the first chapter of my first story! **

**There isn't much of this chapter, but I plan on updating regularly updating.**

**I hope you've enjoyed. If you could, too, please review? All reviews will help me. **

**Thanks again **

**Dogs1954 :D**


	2. Chapter 2

District 7 was a poor district. One could immediately tell that walking through the city. My family and I weren't as poor as most people in our district, but we were not nearly as rich as people in districts like 1 and the Capitol. It was all due to the rebellion – the reason we have these Games in the first place – 74 years ago, in which districts that were apart of the rebellion, such as ours, came out poorer than districts, like 1 and 2, which supported the capitol.

The houses, if you could call them that, were lined up shabbily. I knew a lot of people who lived in this area, and they were always hungry, but then again, so were we. The main jobs in our district are chopping down trees and crafting things from trees – something that everyone in this district knows very well.

Eventually we reached the square. There were already most of the 12-17 year olds there. I made my way to the 16 male area and lined up appropriately, facing the large stage in front of district 7's Town Hall. There were hushed whispers all around me when a deep voice cut through all the noise.

"Welcome, District 7, to the 74th Reaping for the 74th Annual Hunger Games!"

The Escort for our district this year was Barnabus Trophetus – a middle-aged man who looked like he belonged to a circus a lot more than he did as the centre of attention in a bleak town square. His pale blue skin was very disconcerting, as was his extremely white smile that could blind someone if they were too close. I didn't like the look of him – but then again, i didn't like the look of the other Capitol Escort that was District 7's for ten years before this one. If all the Capitol's people looked that bad, I didn't know what to think.

My eyes started to wander to our town square and everyone's surroundings. The Square itself was bleak. A concrete paradise, my mother had once said. And I agreed. As much as there was live everywhere, the persistence of concrete was immense. Every building in the square was made out of it. All the residential housing in District 7 was made out of wood, yet due to the importance of the buildings in the square the Capitol had ensured that concrete was a must.

If there was a fire in a house, people could stop it. There would be a loss of lives, but the cost of concrete and the ready supply of timber made it an easy option. If there was a fire in the square, however, many important things would be lost. All the records in the appropriately named 'Hall of Records' would be lost, and that would be disastrous to all of the trading of timber throughout Panem, and, of course, the records of everyone that had ever lives or visited District 7.

There was also the matter of the marketplace, on the right side of the square. The often bustling marketplace was stony silent during the Reaping. It was the lifeblood of the people – workers could trade there hard earned money, chopping wood all day, and use it to procure the food that everyone was in great need of. There wasn't too much of a shortage of goods in District 7, but there were still a lot of people who went hungry. If the marketplace was burned down, where would everyone go to survive? Not many people would, and then there would be a horrible shortage of tables in the Capitol. President Snow couldn't have the people of the Capitol needing, and that was why the marketplace was concrete. Not due to the lives of the people, as they were expendable. The wants of Capitol people drove the people of the Districts into hard labour.

My mind slowly realised that everyone's attention was now firmly on Barnabus Trophetus, after his spiel on why the Hunger Games happened, and how it was the districts' fault. No one believed him, of course, and it was the same speech as each and every year, and now that everyone was looking at Barnabus I knew, automatically, that the name of the female tribute was about to be called.

His hand, after a minute or so, retracted from the glass ball filled with names. Everyone was on edge – who was going to go this year? He finally read out the name.

"The female tribute of District 7, for the annual 74th Hunger Games is... Grace Willoak."

The name hit me pretty hard. I knew Grace from my school; she was in a couple of my classes and she was definitely going to be missed.

She made her way up to the stage, a forlorn figure walking hesitantly amongst murmurs of recognition and sadness. I felt bad for her, and I just couldn't imagine the way she felt. It was a terrible the thing, the Games. They took lives away, and then blamed it on us.

"And now," Barnabus shouts exuberantly, as Grace takes her place on the stage, "for our male tribute!"

I really take notice now. I know all the boys of my age, through work in the forest, and many faces of the rest. Whoever's name was called up I was sure would affect me. How much, however, was yet to be decided.

I glanced around at the boys around me. We were all feeling the pressure now. In the past four years, it had been tense. This year was different. We each had more pieces of paper, due to the extra one added each year. This time I had five. Granted, the chance was extremely minimal still, at around 5 out of 1000. I held my breath as fateful words came out of the mouth of one Barnabus Trophetus.

"The male to represent District 7 in the 74th annual Hunger Games of Panem will be... Owen Green."


End file.
